Partners
by HiddenFanGirl
Summary: After special orders from the President, S7 has been reactivated, and merged with NEST. Simmons has also been given orders to find five special agents who will partner with each Autobot as his "nanny". No one cares for it, but no one really has a choice.
1. Finding the Right People

**Disclaimer:** Transformers, the Autobots, the Decepticons, Sector Seven, and any other names you recognize are not mine. Names that aren't familiar to you are mine, and I will fight you for them.

A/N: This is canon with the second movie, not canon with the third (as that has not come out yet.) This is my own lil' version of what happens after the second movie, with a bit of an AU twist thrown in. Yes, I know Simmons (probably) doesn't have a kid, but it's not completely impossible. He/she might not wanna' live with grandmaw. lol. Anyways, keep an open mine as you read. This will have a few OCs, but it's also got some Canon humans partnerin' with our beloved Autobots. (Including one I doubt you'll see coming!) So, that being said read on, dear reader! Read on!

* * *

Sector Seven had been shut down right after the battle with Megatron, due to the failure of its ability to keep the secret of NBE-1 just that, a secret. After the matter in New York had been hushed up, and people's mouth silenced by either force or bribery, the President declared that Sector Seven was to be no more, and so it was.

Two years later, the last director of Sector Seven, Seymour Reginald Simmons, was working with his mother at the deli she owned. Life had gone on as if Sector Seven had never existed, much to the regret of Agent Simmons. However, that life soon returned to being only about the extraterrestrials when Sam Witwickey and two of his friends stormed through the deli doors, speaking of images and of The Fallen.

It took a battle of epic proportions, with lives on both sides and races lost, but The Fallen was defeated by the great Optimus Prime, before he could destroy Earth's only sun. When the President heard of the ex-NEST operatives, and the ex-director of Sector Seven's allying for the battle, he decided that he would reactive Sector Seven's status, and then combine it with NEST.

The operatives moved Sector Seven's equipment to NEST's island, and Agent Simmons was given the title of Director again. Now, the job of finding the right personnel is up to him. However, this time, it is a bit more complicated than picking those who fit the job description. For this time, the President has a sure-fire way of making sure the Transformers stay a secret…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Now that S7 is finally settled, we need to find personnel who can benefit this organization." Agent "Reggie" Simmons moved so he was standing on the opposite side of his desk. His hands were clasped behind him, and he stared at the screen before him. "The old personnel files, Carley. Do we have those?"

"Yes, Agent Simmons."

"I want them on my desk yesterday." He ran a hand down his face, then stepped forwards to the screen. His fingers tapped a large file twice, and it seemed to open. "Here we are. The NEST operatives, I want forty of them. Lennox, Epps; they're a must. S7's old technicians, give me the best five. Are you writing this down?"

"Writing." The blonde sitting on the edge of his desk replied with a smirk. Her blue eyes twinkled. "You seem to be on a roll."

His shoulders jerked in a hidden laugh. "I feel like I am. It's good to be back." He suddenly got serious again. "For the big guys… I want both of the Hawthorne's. I seem to remember Gray being a good mechanic; we'll need her. That boy... Sawyer, and might as well get Summers. How many is that?"

"We have…" There was a pause as Carley looked through here clipboard. "Seven unclaimed ABs. You just named five. We need two more, Agent Simmons."

"Get me Agent Ashley Epps, and then we'll call it. The big guys can choose. In all honesty, they deserve to, considering what we're about to pull on them."

She snorted. "I say we just stick these guys with whoever. But I don't run S7." She jotted down the information, and then read over what he had just given her. A frown formed on her delicate face. "That's six, Father. You need another one…"

"I've got it covered. Don't doubt me. Now, that is about… Fifty personnel, am I wrong?"

"Fifty-five." She got an odd look from her father, "Counting us, it's fifty-five. And you might have counted the Hawthorne's as one, instead of two."

Simmons nodded. "Of course. Of course. What would I ever do without you?" He asked, smiling slightly, then rubbed his face again. It had been a long week, having done so much in so little time, and it was really taking a toll on him. But he would rest later, once everything was settled. "Get that Witwickey kid." He said quietly, tapping on the boy's file. It opened, and he silently read. "And his girlfriend. Leo Spitz as well. They can be part-time until they graduate college. Then, I want them here permanently. Fifty-eight."

Carley wrote down what he said, then waited for more instructions. However, none came. Her head tilted to the side, and a strand of blonde hair fell into her face, but was ignored. Her father seemed to be mumbling to himself, scratching his head and observing each file carefully. She chuckled quietly at his musings, and decided to try to make a suggestion.

"How about the communications officers and electrical experts from S7, and we can get the NEST weapon experts? That would be close to the mark, and leave us room for potential new recruits."

Simmons paused when she finished speaking, then turned his head to look at her. A smile played upon his features, but it was soon gone. "I was going to suggest that."

"Of course, Director." Carley slid from the corner of his desk, and walked over. Her fingers flipped a switch, and the lights cut on at the same time the touch-computer screen disappeared. "How soon do you want them here?"

"An hour."

"I can do better." Reaching over, she kissed his cheek. "Brush your hair, Dad. They'll be here in twenty minutes, tops. The specific agents will be harder to find, but I'll have them here before tomorrow."

Simmons accompanied her back to his desk, and picked up his coffee. Carley continued to walk towards the door, complemented by a swagger Simmons himself used to have. His eyes softened, and he shook his head. This was one of those times he wished she had more of her mother in her, instead of her being a female carbon copy of him.

Still, he smiled, and sipped from his coffee again.

"That's my girl."

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HFG: Yes, yes, a short chapter. Just an introduction into my lil' world. The next chapter will be up within ten seconds, as I already have it written. So that being said, please clicky that button _points to review button _or just go on to the next chapter!


	2. Why are We Here, Again?

**Disclaimer:** Hasbro won't give me the Transformers yet. Darn it. But my character are mine! Please stay away from them, unless it's to read. I wuvvle them.

A/N: This is where it gets interesting.

* * *

It was a new record; one he could use to start off Sector Seven on a good note. It had taken Carley just twenty minutes to get the operatives she needed to fill Sector Seven. The specific agents had been a mite bit harder to find, due to the fact that all but Agent Epps had found a new line of work. Luckily, none of them had any reason not to come back to S7, and had been rounded up and taken to Sector Seven before the day was through.

He stood before them now, eyeing each and every one of both the Autobots, and the agents. They were in the very heart of Sector Seven, standing in the command center, a room large enough to comfortably hold around thirty Autobots. Luckily, there wasn't that many left, so the room was relatively empty. No one aside from those within this room would know what was to happen, and how that would affect Autobot relations with the humans.

Well, here's hoping.

Behind him, he could feel the Autobots observing not only him, but his six special agents as well. And his agents were struggling not to make it obvious that they were returning the attention. Of course, they knew of the Autobots; they were with Sector Seven during Megatron's awakening, but that didn't mean they had been this close to one.

Finally, the silence became too awkward, and one of the Autobots spoke.

"Hey, yo, whatcha got us standin' here foah?"

That was the lovely Mudflap, he thought sarcastically. Turning, Simmons looked at the gathered group. Now was as good as time as any to break this news.

"As you all well know, President Obama has agreed to give S7 another shot. He did the same with NEST, but combined it with S7 so that we could control your secret, whilst you all continue to battle Decepticons." He explained, then paused. "Your hunts are to continue as normal, as are our activities. However, there were some… stipulations added."

"Stipu-what-ions?"

"I'm with Red Hot over there." Agent Hawthorne – one of them, anyways – stated, pointing her thumb at the red Autobot. Her posture was bored, but her eyes nervous. She had no idea what this meant for her. None of them did, and it was obvious it bothered them. "What exactly does the Pres want us to do?"

"What he wants," Simmons sighed, "is for us to always keep an eye on the big guys. That means that these fellows can't go out without supervision, no matter what. You six are their supervision."

There were mixed reactions. Some looked pleased, others disgusted. Some were just flat-out livid. When some – human and Transformer – attempted to argue, Simmons was forced to stop them by holding up a hand.

"I don't like it. Prime doesn't like it, either. But we have no choice." He struggled to get it through their heads, "In order for your sanctuary to continue on this planet, and S7 and NEST to continue as they did, this has to be done. Neither Prime or I want a war between our races as well as against the Decepticons."

Everyone went silence, and looks were exchanged. Humans looked the Autobots over. Autobots looked the humans over. Finally, they all gave the impression that they realized this was necessary, and acquiesced.

Simmons let out a relieved sigh. He held out a hand, and Carley placed her clipboard in his open palm. His gaze shifted down to read it, and his head nodded quickly. "Now," he started, "You've all been given suggestions on whom you should be paired with. Keep in mind, these are only suggestions, and you are free to choose. I want one Autobot to one human, please. I don't have enough for pairs. Now, Hawthorne."

Two of the agents stepped forwards. A young man, and a young woman, with identical looks on their faces, but that was the only thing identical about the half-sibling twins. The boy had jet-black hair, and the brightest blue eyes Simmons had ever seen. His sister, on the other hand, had flaming red locks – captured neatly in a side-ponytail – and dark, dark green eyes. On the outside, they were as fraternal as twins got. On the inside, they could best even the most identical.

"Twins for twins, it would appear." He said once they were before him. "Jason, you've been given Mudflap. Alice-"

"Justin, sir." The redhead interrupted, "I go by Justin. Alice is our mother's name."

Simmons nodded, and made that mental note. "Justin, you get Skids. Go say hello."

The two walked over, and then he saw it. Their steps, their strides, were alike. Their moves were even and together, and he had to admit, they were the true stereotype of twins he had ever seen. But, he also remembered, those two could fight. In one night, they had caused nearly ten thousand dollars in damage.

Well, they had been matched to those twins for a reason.

"Mudflap."

"Yo."

"Skids?"

"That's me."

There was an awkward silence for a long moment, and then Jason shook his head. He glanced over at Justin. Without even looking over, his sister just nodded. The two of them apparently didn't like their assignments, and neither did the Transformers before them.

"Switch?"

"Oh yeah."

Skids and Mudflap stood, and exchanged places. Now Mudflap was before Justin, and Skids with Jason. Ignoring his brother, the red twin knelt before the female twin and gave a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side.

"Red hot, huh?" He asked, offering out a hand.

"It's a type of candy we humans eat." Justin supplied, placing her tiny hand in his. She gave him a grin. "Matches your paint job. Which, by the way, I like. It's nice to meetcha, Red."

"Same t' you."

Meanwhile, Jason and Skids were just staring at each other. Jason's hands were inside his pockets, and he looked bored. Skids returned the look, until he decided to break the silence.

"What's wrong? Your hair cuttin' off your circulation? I think I'm loosing IQ points just lookin' at it." Reaching over, he gave Jason's head a little push with his finger, making sure not to hurt the human. He knew how delicate they were, and he was really just playing with him.

Despite the clear insult, Jason simply replied with, "Hard to loose points when your IQ's already below zero, isn't it?" He said it without even blinking.

"Ah, Mudlfap, I love this boy!" He yanked Jason into a bone-crushing hug. The boy let out a noise, but then chuckled.

Simmons cleared his throat, and turned his back on the four. They could connect later. Now, he had a job to do. "Yes, well… Now that they're settled, Gray, you're-"

"Call the medic-dude." The young woman interrupted, and headed over towards Ratchet.

She was a tall thing, around six-even, and had delicate mocha-colored skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Simmons could remember Carley and this woman had been friends back in high school, or possibly middle school. He couldn't remember. He did remember that every time he went to talk to her, she normally had oil or some sort of fluid smeared upon her face and hands.

Why didn't he think to put her with Ratchet?

Gray stood before the yellow medic now, who had bent so he was at her level. He sniffed, taking in her scent and possibly other information about her. She seemed unimpressed by this, and simply held out her hand.

"Agent Vanessa Juliet Gray, resident mechanic. I hear you're the best of the best among your race. So am I."

"Hmph." Ratchet observed the dark-haired female; an unseen smirk was hidden in his optics. "We'll see about that, won't we?"

Wheeljack gave Ratchet a small nudge, and the medic looked over his shoulder at his companion. The engineer simply shrugged, but the look in his blue optics was telling him to 'be nice'. Then that gaze turned to Simmons. "What about me?"

"Gray was yours." He commented quietly, and scratched his head slightly. Turning the page of the clipboard, his dark eyes scanned. Simmons cleared his throat. "But since she has decided another, that leaves Tom Sawyer over there-"

"Actually, boss." The brunette stepped forwards, and walked towards the blue femme standing between Ratchet and the twins. There was a grin on his face. "I think I know which Autobot I want."

"Wonderful."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Ethan Sawyer sauntered over to the femme. He bowed low, and gave her his famous lop-sided grin. Cromina knelt to his level, and gently cupped him in her hands, lifting him as she stood.

"Well, aren't you adorable?" She cooed at him. Her optics shown with absolute delight at the human she held in her hands.

"I could say the same for you." Ethan grinned back up. All female eyes – aside from Cromina's – rolled at the display from the known player.

Simmons rolled his eyes as well, though it wasn't as obvious, and simply turned back to the last remaining Autobot. The silver engineer had a look in his optics, one like a little lost child might have. It was almost as if he didn't understand why the two humans that had been chosen for him had picked another.

"Agent Summers, that leaves you with Wheeljack." He paused, and rubbed his eyes. "Good luck with that. I think I'm gunna need an Advil."

"I'll get you one." Carley said, rubbing his shoulder.

Ariane Summers put a hand on her hip, looking over at Simmons. Her reputation for being an extravagant weapons designer was well known, but that didn't mean she liked others to know it before she met them. However, he hadn't let too much slip, so maybe there was still a chance to make this work.

_God, let's hope so_, Simmons thought, and rubbed his eyes yet again. He needed another three gallons of coffee just to get him through the rest of the night, if things were going to go like this. No one following orders, choosing whoever they wanted…

Ariane was the odd one. She once had probably been like his daughter, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. However, she had cropped her hair, and dyed it with some purple and blue strips, and even a green spike here or there. Her eyes were purple, due to contacts, and she refused to conform to the uniform Simmons had tried to get her into. Yet, he couldn't let someone with her knowledge of weapons go, so there she was. His little secret in the closet.

Wheeljack knelt, and offered out his hand. Ariane hesitated once, then stepped into his palm, and clutched his thumb. When he lifted her into the air, her grip tightened momentarily, then loosened upon feeling the engineer gently touch her back with his fingers. It was meant to comfort, she wagered, and had done just that. Now she stood at eye-level with him, and tilted her head to the side.

"I'm Ariane."

"Wheeljack."

"Pleasure."

After that, there was silence. It was an awkward silence, to be exact. Ariane tilted her head to the side, and looked away. She wrapped her arms around herself, and struggled to wrack her brain for something to say. Wheeljack used his free hand to scratch the back of his head, obviously trying to do the same. He bit on his bottom lip.

"I like to blow stuff up." He finally blurted out, then winced when he heard both of the twins let out a groan. Obviously, he hadn't meant to say that.

But instead of whatever reaction the Autobots were expecting, they didn't receive. Ariane's violet eyes lit up, and she cackled near-madly. Simmons winced, and rubbed the back of his head. The Autobots all craned their necks to gaze at the odd human female, whereas the humans ducked their heads to look away. Ah, she was the odd one of the group, and now they knew it.

"I'm good at that!" She grinned, and bounded over to the edge of his hand. Wheeljack tensed when the tiny human reached over, and placed her hand on the tip of his nose. "I do believe this will work, Wheeljack."

His posture relaxed, and a smile formed on his lips. His icy gaze brightened. "I think I'm going to agree with you on that assumption, Miss Summers."

Simmons shook his head; this was just getting weirder and weirder by the second. Apparently, they seemed to work out the glitches by themselves. Though it was a good thing, and it meant less work for him, it was still odd that they could do so. As if they just connected.

He turned back to the final agent, and everything he was thinking disappeared. His gaze gentled. Ashley Epps had been here before, he remembered. She was the adopted daughter of Robert Epps, and the first human to truly know of the Transformers. Even before Sam had she known of the alien robots, and had become the partner of one of them.

But now that partner was dead.

"Epps."

Her eyes lifted, and locked their green gaze onto his dark brown. She didn't say a word, but it was obvious what she was thinking. Why was she there, when her partner was dead? Another thing was reflecting in those eyes as well: she was being emotionally crushed each and every time a bond was being formed between a human and his respective Autobot.

Simmons let out a soft sigh. "I am not forcing you to be here, due to the situations and services you have already been in and performed for Sector Seven. However, you are the best Communications Expert we have. And, as your father is here, I figured you would want to-"

Ashley held up a hand; Simmons paused. She gave him a nod, and then glanced over at the Autobots as they conversed with their human escorts. Her posture seemed to slump slightly, as if defeated, though it would have gone unnoticed to all but those with a trained military eye.

"Epps, respond."

Simmons silenced his daughter with a look, and Carley turned her head away. Ashley did the same; only she did so in shame whereas Carley was pouting like a child. A snort was heard, and everyone turned to look at Mudflap, who pointed at the human sitting on his shoulder.

Justin turned her stone-green gaze onto Carley, and crossed one leg over the other. "She doesn't speak, Simmons, Jr.; hasn't since her own partner died." Her eyes shifted to Ashley, softened. The two of them had been friends at the Academy, and Justin had become very protective of the younger woman. "But that shouldn't come between her and her duty. If I know her, she's more than ready to help."

Ashley smiled sadly, and gave a nod. She reached out, extending her hand to seal the deal. With a nod, Simmons took her hand in his grip, squeezed warmly. Once they were relaxed, he cleared his throat, and everyone's attention returned to him.

"Now that the difficult part is over, I will leave you be. At least for the moment." He began, "Once you all have introduced yourself to each other, gotten to know each other a little bit better – and by that, I mean everyone, not just your partner – we'll crack down to business. But for now," Simmons waved his hand towards a nearby stand, "mingle, eat, drink – whatever it is you kids do no a days. I have a meeting to get to."

He turned curtly then, and strode towards the door as if he owned the place. Technically, he ran it; so his swagger was perfectly justified, Carely mused as she ran after her father. He held the door open for her, and she offered a thank you. Once they were both through, he shut the door behind them.

Conversations started up immediantly.

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HFG: Well, that was fun! Please review. _points to button _I love reviews. Almost as much as I love Transformers!


	3. Getting to Know One Another

**Disclaimer:** Hasbro has denied my request to have a 100% stake in the Transformers company, despite my generous offer of random comics and pawky. So, with that being said, names that you'll find in _Transformers_ or _Transformers II_ are not mine. However, the humans are mine, and I love them very much. Except Carley. Someone take her. Please, someone take her...

**Chapter Three: Getting to Know one Another**

_Let's just say, I hate it all!  
Ev'ry little trait, however small  
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl  
With simple utter loathing  
There's a strange exhilaration  
In such total detestation  
It's so pure, so strong!  
Though I do admit it came on fast  
Still I do believe that it can last  
And I will be loathing  
Loathing you  
My whole life long_!

~~_What is this Feeling?_ Wicked the Musical~~

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"So, uh, whatcha like t' do when yer not, y'know, around tha' guy?" Mudflap pointed his thumb towards the door Simmons had escaped from. He was genuinely curious. There was something about the spicy red head on his shoulder that he just had to know more about. It was an odd feeling, to want to know someone you have just met. Odd, but not unpleasant.

One of her shoulders rose and fell in a half-shrug. "As much as I hate to conform to the stereotype, I love hanging out with my own twin. Y'know the black-haired nitwit over there." She pointed her thumb casually towards Jason and Skids' direction. "We do the whole videogame, comic book, fighting-until-we've-caused-damage thing."

A grin formed on his face; his famous crooked grin, to be exact. He always used that smirk when he wanted to get a reaction, a happy reaction, and he did. Justin giggled.

"Well, honey, you an' I 're gunna get 'long real well, den." He smirked, and reached over to touch her cheek with the tip of his forefinger. She laughed and pushed his hand away. "What? Ya don't like bein' touched by the metal people? I'm wounded."

Again, Justin laughed. She playfully butted her shoulder against his cheek. She opened her mouth to respond with the sarcasm she was famous for, but her Ariane's evil cackles stopped her. In fact, they stopped all conversations. Everyone, human and Transformer, craned their necks to look at the source of the mad laughter. What they saw made everyone want to smack their forehead – and some actually did.

Ariane was bouncing up and down on Wheeljack's hand, clapping both of hers happily. Her multi-colored hair was everywhere; she had a loopy grin on her face. Wheeljack's headfins flashed blue, then yellow.

"Wheeljack, wha' in the world did'ja do t' yer human?" Skids questioned; he glanced down at Jason, then back up. "An' c'n I do it t' mine?"

Ratchet cut his optics at the green twin. There was a look on his face that said something around the lines of _Why did Optimus Prime ever send out that invitation for other Autobots?_ Despite his own bonded coming because of that message, he still liked to blame it whenever the twins did or said something incredibly stupid. Sad thing was, they often did something that fell into that category about every two-point-eight-three seconds. So that meant he was free from Skids' mistakes for approximately three seconds.

Wasn't he the lucky bot?

"I-I didn't do nothin', I swear!" Wheeljack waved his free hand in the air defensively. "She-she just started yelling, and cackling…" He looked down at his partner as one would at a package with the word "EXPLOSIVE" written all over it.

"Well, you must have done something, Jack." The Medic said, "Normal humans don't just start cackling over no reason."

"Unless they're Megatron's." Mudflap put in, and received a high-five from his brother. "Oh yeah, that's how I rock it."

Jason and Justin promptly facepalmed. Vanessa shook her hand, and glanced up at the Ratchet. After curling her finger in a "come down here" motion, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered something to him. Ratchet jerked up immediately.

"Jack, if you're talking about the time you blew up that lab in Iacon, I promise you…" But he didn't finish that threat; he didn't have to. The look in his optics spelled _death_ for the engineer. When Wheeljack winced, headfins flashing sheepishly, the medic's face fell blank. "Jack, you have a mentally unstable human in your hands – and you told her about _blowing up a lab_. Don't you think she's going to go try that now?"

"Hey!" Ariane interjected, pointing a finger towards him. She had stopped laughing during Ratchet's little speech, and was now glaring very unhappily, "I am not mentally unstable. Check all the psychological evaluations Simmons put in my file. I'm perfectly sane, with a touch of OCD… Okay, maybe I'm ADHD, but that was never proven. I just like hearing stories about people, other than myself, who blow things up on accident." Now, she put her hands on her hips, "I would never purposely put anyone, myself or others, in danger. Please do not insult me."

Wheeljack and Ratchet exchanged a look. That was probably the sanest statement any human in that room, Simmons included, had uttered since their arrival. Ratchet muttered something that sounded like a mixture between a half-hearted apology and a complaint about schizophrenic weapons officers, and promptly walked off. Vanessa, who was still perched on his shoulder, looked almost lost as she clung to his neck. Obviously not being part of a group was something she had not agreed to.

"I'm sorry, Miss Summers." Wheeljack muttered quietly, rubbing the back of his helm. Ariane shook her head, waved the apology off. They were partners. There couldn't be any sour feelings between them – especially if they had to spend every waking moment together. Just as there couldn't be any of this "Miss Summers" stuff. If she was going to live with the guy, there had to be a first name basis thing going on there.

To show she accepted his apology, though, she hugged his thumb.

"Aww…!" Carley cooed obnoxiously as she strode back into the room. Everyone's conversations stopped, and all eyes – and optics – turned to her. She was free of clipboards, official looking equipment, and her father. Instead, she was accompanied by a pink motorcycle femme, and she didn't look too happy about it. "Isn't that just _adorable_?"

"Hey, Simmons Jr., buzz off." Jason flicked his wrist twice in a shooing motion. Carley sneered at him, giving him the finger. "Ooh, look, the evil finger! Oh, how it hurts! Oh, how it wounds! Am I bleeding? I think I'm bleeding!"

Skids slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his sniggers. Justin and Mudflap just grinned. Whereas the Autobots were new to Simmons and his daughter, the agents with them weren't. Simmons was an okay guy so long as he wasn't going off on one of his rants, or working that third double shift with no sleep and a zillion gallons of coffee. His daughter, however, seemed to have all the bad qualities of her father, and then some. He spoiled her as a child, and her actions now, as a fellow agent, showed that.

Sad thing was, she _still_ could get away with anything.

"Hawthorne, make your annoying brother shut up before I-"

"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" Justin pointed to herself, "Because you know I don't like you. I'll only encourage him to keep going, 'cuz I know it'll annoy you. You know I will."

Carley let out a low, growling noise, but let it go. Instead, she looked up at the bike behind her, then motioned to the others. "Go. Socialize. I don't care what you do, just get the heck away from me." Her voice showed the disgust she felt, and all gazes turned sympathetic as they turned to Arcee.

The poor femme had been partnered with Carley.

However, instead of promptly scurrying away from the blonde demon, as anyone else would have done, Arcee knelt. She reached to touch the back of her partner, but Carley took a pointed step away. Icy blue eyes _glared_ at her.

"Do _not_ touch me." Carley hissed. Arcee's blue optics saddened; she stood, and walked over to the group. Cromina wrapped an arm around the pink bike's shoulders, hugging her close, and Ethan began his smooth-talking ways in an attempt to make her feel better.

Disgusted by the display of hatred, all Autobots, and their partners, turned their backs on her, and began conversations with each other again. But that was okay because, in the way of the predator, Carley had turned her blue gaze onto the weakest prey of all.

Little Ashley Epps.

A very predatorial grin fixed itself onto Carley's face. Ashley was the perfect candidate. Alone, confused, and very, very venerable, the blonde knew that she could easily turn her into a good ally. After all, with a few easy words and a gentle tone, it wouldn't be hard to make her partner's death become a sort of abandonment. With that in mind, she started over towards the tiny brunette.

"Ashley?"

Ashley's head jerked up as a voice broke through her contained silence. Looking around, she spotted the source of the gentle voice, Simmons' daughter, and offered a hesitant smile. Despite Carley being rude earlier, Ashley didn't want any enemies among the collective group that had been assembled here. The psychologists her father had sent her to would deem this as a result of her "fragile psyche" and broken soul. What it really was, however, was her natural non-confrontational attitude. She preferred not to have enemies, unless it was necessary.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier." Carley continued, practically cooing. "I didn't realize you already had a partner. What was his name, again? Blues, Bass… Jazz? Yes, Jazz. He was the musical one, if I'm not mistaken."

Ashley's grass-green eyes lit up slightly at the mention of her partner. A small smile formed upon her lips, and she looked up at Carley. A nod.

"You really don't talk, do you?" She questioned; Ashley shook her head. "That sucks. And to think, you don't speak because of your Guardian… That's why I don't want one, even though I've got one." There was a look of surprise on the younger woman's face, one Carley knew she could use. Her words began to twist, a form of subtle venom. "Think about it, Ashley. He's dead; he's gone. He abandoned you when you needed him most. Do you think it was justified that he take all you had, and then abandon you?"

Ashley looked away, and wrapped her arms around herself in a sort of half-hug. There was a look on her face that made her appear more lost than usual. Maybe she didn't agree with Carley's words, but they had struck her soul. She loved Jazz as one would love that boy two grades ahead that always protected you, always had your back. It was a subtle sort of love. The kind that, if disrupted in a violent way, left one shattered. Carley was only pecking at the pieces.

"I mean, if mine got ripped in two, I'd be doing a jig over the pieces."

The room went silent for a nanosecond, though it felt like an eternity. Ashley lifted her head slightly, so she was glaring at the blonde from the top of her eyes. Her hands squeezed into fists; her nails dug into her flesh. Vanessa's quiet cursing broke the momentary silence, and Ratchet jerked into motion. His hand was between Carley and the pouncing Ashley instantly. He gently wrapped his fingers around her.

Vanessa scrambled to climb down Ratchet's arm. "Ashley? Ash, honey it's okay…" She ran across Ratchet's wrist and knelt beside the shaking woman. The fury and hatred Vanessa saw in those green eyes had her pausing for a second. But then she shook it from her system and began to speak again, stroking Ashley's short hair as she did. "You know Carley. You know she doesn't like the Autobots. It's okay, baby. It's nothing personal. Don't get in trouble. Not today. You know Jazz wouldn't want you to."

Ashley froze then, and looked up at Vanessa. She looked lost again, almost hurt. And there, in the corners of those eyes, tears began to form. Ratchet cupped both of his hands so the two women could sit beside each other as he turned to leave the room. He didn't know how to deal with female tears, but he did know that privacy was required. He would take the two of them out of there, let his partner alleviate the younger woman's pain.

"You little snake in the grass." Justin leaped from Mudflap's shoulder. She landed in front of her partner, and then stalked over to Carley. "You know she's fragile, and yet you continue to pick at her."

"Just leave her alone, Carley." Ariane joined in, "Just because you don't want your Guardian doesn't mean she didn't. Unlike you, she actually has a heart. She doesn't your words adding more pain to the break."

Jason concluded with, "Soulless witch."

Carley snorted, and rolled her eyes. She didn't care much for their opinions. All that bothered her was that now she would have no ally when it came to getting these Autobots out of the base. With that in mind, she turned her gaze onto the one that had dubbed itself her partner, and narrowed her eyes.

"Arcee?"

"Yes?"

What really hurt all the bots, and even some of the humans, was that Arcee seemed thrilled that Carley was acknowledging her in a tone of voice that, though it held disgust, didn't seem hate-filled. The motorcycle femme looked down at her partner expectantly, blue optics bright and almost child-like. It was amazing how many people Carley was able to willing twist.

"Stay here. Don't follow me. _Again_." That last word was stressed, "I get tired of you following me everywhere. As for the rest of you, the only reason I came back into this pitiful excuse for a party was to inform you all that Optimus Prime and Director Simmons are going to brief you all on the situation tomorrow at oh-six-hundred hours. You will be expected to attend, as it is mandatory, and bring your curiosity. There'll be a questions-and-answers part at the end. Peachy keen? Good."

With that, she turned and left.

Wheeljack's headfins flashed yellow, and he looked around the room.

"Am I the only one that doesn't like her?"

* * *

HFG: Lovable Wheeljack. He's always the smart one? lol. Anyways, there is a question and answers part for a reason. If anyone has a question about this they want answered (within reason, of course) then I'll let Simmons answer it. Mainly because I can just see the guys blurting out any questions that pop into their minds. Including Ratchet going, "Tell me ya gave Jack an' his girl a lab _away_ from the rest of the human population?" Anyways! Like I said, review with your questions, comments, crits. I need a beta, if anyone wants to volunteer. I'm too shy to ask any one person. Heh.

Reviewsie pleasie!!


	4. Room Assignments

**Disclaimer:** Same as before. All names you don't know are mine! All names you do aren't! (unless your name is one of my chars. Then you're awesome.)

A/N: I wanna' give a shout out to my beta, Cai-Ann, who had the guts to volunteer for my Beta, and suffer through the horribleness that is this chapter! And, yes, that is a word. I spell-checked. lol!

_"Why would I pay a therapist to give me crap, when I have a roommate who does it for free?"  
~Ally McBeal~_

* * *

"Well."

The silence was broken by one word, uttered by one of the humans, and silently agreed upon by everyone. All heads, human and Transformer, turned to the source of the statement, and saw Justin leaning against Mudflap with her hands shoved deep in her pockets. A low sigh escaped her lips.

"I don't know 'bout y'all," the accent that normally accompanied her speech was back, lightly clipping her words, and causing those who knew her to relax slightly. Accent equaled normalcy. Sort of, "but I have suddenly found myself exhausted beyond all sane reasons. As it way past midnight, I am going to call it a night and effectively hit the hay. Who's my roommate?"

The question Justin asked wasn't really a question, even though it was phrased as one. The young woman's dark green eyes locked onto her brother as soon as the last word was uttered, and everyone simply smirked. She only asked that question to be polite. After all, no matter what happened, Simmons knew to always put the twins as roommates. It was just the way it had, and always would, work out. Otherwise, Simmons would have to deal with two seriously annoyed twins.

Blue eyes flashing, Jason pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt; the room key hung between them, for all to see. "Room 241b, sis."

Skids laughed, his wacky chuckle causing Jason to look up in confusion. "I got 241a. How weird, hmm?"

The chain fell from between Jason's numb fingers. He now stared agape up at his partner, then over at Justin. His sister was far ahead of him, scrambling through the many pockets of her cargo pants to find that room assignment letter. Her face was as white as the paper itself as she red the letters in bold that spelled her doom.

"That bastard." She whispered, "He separated us."

"No way." Ariane seemed to appear out of nowhere, snatching the paper from Justin's fingers, read it over. A whistle escaped her. "He did. You're not even in the same building! 448a. I gotta check mine!"

Justin was forced to grab the paper as it floated to the ground, due to Ariane dropping it as if it was rabid raccoon as the weapons tech scrambled through the pockets of her lab coat. To the redhead, it felt as if the world had crumpled completely, and there was no chance of any scrap of normalcy. No matter how they had to cheat, sneak or lie, the twins had always manage to bunk with one another. Of course, they had spent some time away from each other due to camp and various other activities. But whenever it was possible, they were always roommates.

"I'm going to strangle and castrate that man."

Apparently oblivious to her friend's threat, Ariane read from her note. "Oh look. I'm in 362b." She read it aloud, and Justin glanced up. The natural blonde looked as if she was pouting. "I don't get to bunk with either of the Trouble Two. Ethan?"

"What?" The man's Brooklyn accent made his already irritated voice only seem even snappier. "I'm consoling a beautiful femme at the moment. Must you interrupt me?"

"Room number, Hugh Hefner!" Ariane rolled her violet eyes, "So far, we're all separated."

Ethan sighed. He gave an apologetic look to Cromina and Arcee before shoving his hand down in his pocket. He looked as if he was concentrating for a moment, then removed his hand. He now clutched a handful of crumpled napkins, most of which appeared written on. Blushing horribly, he shoved those back down, and then reached into his other pocket. Ethan produced the letter almost instantly.

"Here we are." He said once he had carefully unfolded the letter. "738b. Dang." He raised his eyes, and glanced at the women in the room. "Separated from all my lovely ladies. And Ariane."

Though he received a rude gesture from the named woman, he paid no attention to it. In fact, the only response he got was Cromina's gentle voice speaking up. "Actually," she murmured, "I believe that Simmons man changed my room to 738a this morning. You and I are roommates."

There was silence for a long moment. Then, Jason totally disrupted that with, "Holy fudge bars! That means me and the Jolly Green Giant over here are roommates as well!" As if looking at Skids wrong would get him crushed, Jason slowly glanced over at the green bot. "There is no way."

"Hey, don' I get a say in dis?" Skids put in, crossing his arms. He glared down at the black haired boy. "I mean, he's cool an' all, bu'…livin' wit' 'im? I don' think so."

"Why would you get a choice?" Justin grouched, "None of us did. An' if I'm with you, Hot Shot, I'll scream. I promise ya I will." Her eyes cut upwards at Mudflap, who just smiled sheepishly in response, and could only reply with the matching room number. "Oh God bless it!"

Wheeljack winced at Justin's hiss, and dropped his optics. If those two, who had seemed to click with their partners instantly, had issues with rooming with each other, then what chance did he and Ariane have? Sure, they had one thing in common, but the moment of awkwardness had still made itself known. Plus, she had been the last to be chosen, as he had. She had not been given a choice on her partner. Would this only make her resent him? Perhaps even hate him? He didn't want to end up like Arcee.

A hand, tiny and gentle, rested upon his leg, and his headfins flashed. Glancing down, he spotted Ariane looking up at him. Her eyes seemed to be so child-like at the moment he had to wonder what happened to the woman he had seen standing up to Ratchet just a few minutes earlier. Unlike Justin, who seemed so displeased with idea already, Ariane didn't seem to be too emotional, though. She wasn't ecstatic, nor was she disgruntled.

Curling a finger, Ariane motioned for him to come down to her level. He did as she requested, kneeling so he was right in front of her. Wheeljack extended a hand, palm up, as an invitation to get even closer to his face. She stepped on without question.

"I guess, by default, that makes you and I roomies." Shrugged the young woman, her head tilting to the side. When Wheeljack nodded, she practically collapsed into his palm. "Very well. Ummm… Can we go see the room, then? Like Just said, it's getting late."

Now that he was pointed out to him, he realized exactly how late it was – and why his normally over-active partner seemed to mellow out so quickly. She was tired, as humans often got after a long day. Wheeljack understood that, having once stayed up for a week straight working on a single project. That little adventure had ended up with him passing out on the floor of his lab with his arc welder still going.

Boy, had Ratchet chewed him out for that one!

His little human seemed to be on the verge of passing out, so Wheeljack nodded. His headfins flashed. "Of course we can. You must be tired. You humans require," he had to pause to search for the correct human term, "sleep to recharge yourselves."

"I'm sleepy?" She questioned with a yawn, "That, dear Wheeljack, is the understatement of the year." Ariane then leaned her head against his fingers, allowing her eyes to close. Still, she managed to raise a hand and point in a random direction. "Homeward, Jeeves!"

Wheeljack's headfins flashed yellow in confusion, but he did not question. Instead, as he left the room, he couldn't help but wonder one thing.

_How is Ratch going to be taking this news?_

* * *

Speaking of the snarky medic, he and Vanessa had finally managed to get Ashley calmed and – thanks to the drugs he had managed to snatch up – into a relatively peaceful sleep. She would spend the night in the med bay, just so Ratchet could keep a well-trained optic on her. He had tried to encourage his partner to get some sleep as well, even going so far as to demand it, but the woman seemed as stubborn as he was.

Ratchet wasn't sure whether to hate, or admire, her for it.

"Ash is like my sister." She defended, hands on her hips. Her eyes seemed as hard as stones. "I'm gunna make sure she stays safe throughout the night."

"I'm watching her," he grouched back, folding his arms over his chest. "She's safe and sound with me."

Vanessa glanced him over dubiously. "No offense, but the last metal-dude I had the pleasure of meeting had a plan to eradicate the Earth. Forgive me if I don't jump at the chance to abandon my sister and leave her alone with a metal-dude all for a quick nap." She sighed, and sat on the end of the bed. Ran a slender hand down her face.

Ratchet had to marvel, though, at her spunk. She was protective and loyal. Perhaps, he mused, she had the makings of a great medic in her.

"Besides, I have work to do as well."

"Oh?" An optic ridge perked.

Vanessa gave him the exact same look millions of women gave that brain-dead boy in their lives every day. "Yes, I do." She spoke slowly, as if it was obvious. "I have to order parts, organize the supply warehouse, do paperwork… Ah, lovely paperwork…" Her chocolate eyes rolled, landed on the sleeping face of her sister. A sigh escaped. "I'm too busy to sleep."

"A warehouse?" Ratchet glanced over his shoulder. "You call my supply closet a warehouse?" His voice sounded amused, as if this was the first time the Transformer and human races' size difference had been shoved in his face. "I can have that organized within the hour."

"I have my own method of organization."

"As do I."

There was a hidden threat at the end of that sentence, one Vanessa simply couldn't ignore. She glanced up at him, narrowed her eyes. She could argue with him, or she could get up, swallow her pride, and find something productive to do. After all, getting him to organize the warehouse/closet would be getting him away from Ashley – even if it was for just an hour or two. And while Ratchet was organizing, she could be filling out paperwork.

"Fine." She surrendered, "Organize it as you wish. I've got paperwork to do. Hours and hours of paperwork… I'm going to need coffee. Lots of coffee." Vanessa nodded as she stood from the edge of the bed. She gazed around her, then back up at Ratchet. "Umm… My office is your office, right?"

He nodded.

"Do you mind helping me get there, then? As it appears you had the urge to place Ashley's bed in the center of a giant metal recharge berth that so happens to be lying in the middle of the room!" She flailed her arms comically, and had Ratchet chuckling softly. Instead of apologizing, however, he simply extended a hand, and let her step up. "Thank you, Banana Boy."

His smile fell. "You know nothing's stopping me from dropping you."

"You know nothing's stopping me from shocking your metallic butt."

Ratchet gazed warily down at the human. He doubted she had something on her person that could do that, but he might as well check to make sure. He had barely opened his mouth when Vanessa proudly displayed a small black taser. "Wonderful."

She grinned up at him. "Metal is a wonderful conduit, don't you agree?"

Vanessa's voice was smug as she put the item away. She had obviously one-upped him this time, and the both of them knew it. However, Ratchet also a point of his own. So, they were tied at the moment with a score of one to one. The only small victory he had to look forward to was the reaction he would be given when she realized they were to be roommates.

Oh, he could just see the expression on her face now…

* * *

HFG: And now you, like Cai, have sat through this horrible chapter! Don't worry, the next will have Simmons and, yes, Optimus Prime! Questions will be answered, and some of the canon humans will be/have already been paired with their Autobot! Like I said, if you want Simmons to answer any questions, leave me a review with your questions, and they will be added! With that being said, please, review, comment, crit if you want. I love reviews. :-)


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